Blue and Grey
by Emerin
Summary: Everyday I try to prove to you that I'm alive,even though parts of me may be dead.I carry the burden of a battered soul...You never see me when I'm blue...blue and grey. xx DracoHarry SLASH xx


Hullo Gentle Readers!

Ok, I really dunno why I haven't posted a few of my PWPs from my website onto here. Since I know how LAZY ya'll are . ...yeaaaaaah. ahem Look forward to more random drabbles, courtesy of Green Eyes website. YAY!

Note: song is "#1 crush" by Garbage, incase anyone's beating their brains out going "OMFG!WHY DOES THIS SOUND SO FAMILAR! X.X" Stripper!Harry :drools: yummy

Enjoy and **REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW**!

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It was 12:29 AM according to my gold Rolex and I was going to be late. Not that my client cared, he was probably enjoying himself, as he always did, but I had a policy to always be on time, rain or shine, nosy Aurors or not. Good grief, worse than bloodhounds they were.

"Don't they have lives?" I grumbled, and ducked into a dark alley.

As two figures whisked past, what looked like long billowing cloaks obscuring them from the full moon's light, I gave an aggravated sigh and hurried back down the way I'd came. Ten minutes later, I was hustling inside a very seedy stripclub in a less than upstanding part of New York City. It was a miracle if I didn't come out of this job without a horrible disease or terminal afflicaton of some sort.

I cringed as the burly bouncer took my black trench coat, hanging it in a dark, filthy coat closet, and escorted me through the smoky bar into the stripclub in back. My eyes were starting to water, and I did all I could to not bury my nose in my handkerchief. The smell was atrocious, a foul mix of sweat, semen, cigars and beer. How could the man stand working in such conditions? Surely he had better talents than perpetual nasal congestion.

"Mr. Brown has arrived, sir." The bouncer declared with a prissy lisp.

I sat down in the lurid red velvet chair offered to me and made a mental note to burn these robes as soon as I got back home.

"Mr. Brown." the man said, his eyes once overing me.

I emptied my pockets, laying a wallet, a slip of paper with the address to this bar on it , a cell phone and a pack of mints on the tacky gold table. The wand'll stay tucked into my belt.

"Excellent. So, I'm surprised you're late. I was about to send out the navy."

I tried not to sneer and piled my wallet and mints back into my pocket."Its hard to be punctual when you're dodging authorities."

The client only spared me a brief stern look."And were you followed?"

I shook my head, flipping open my cell, scrolling through my messages."No, I lost them in the labyrinth of allies. Honestly, you could've picked someplace more accessible, or say, _cleaner_."

The man smiled, his eyes dancing round the room." You British and your 'clean'. Sit back and stay awhile, Mr.Brown. I'm sure you of all people can appreciate a little, ahem, _male_ entertainment."

This time I did sneer. If he was referring to the grotesque amount of scantily-clad man flesh prancing round the club as entertainment, then he was of lower class than I originally thought."To each his own."

He didn't seem to have heard me, since his eyes were gleaming with lust and excitement."I've been coming here for ten years, and its amazing. I get older, but the boys stay the same." He accentuated this remark by spanking a passing waiter on his barely covered bum. The boy yelped, shot the man a suggestive smirk and scampered on his way. I wanted to gag.

"If we could get to business. I need a-"

" 'I need I need I need.'" He said in what was supposed to be an imitation of me, though I'm sure my voice didn't go that high. I had a remarkably deep, sexy voice and he should respect it. " What you need, my boy, is a night to relax, let your hair down and get perhaps a blowjob from one of these fine, hard-working young men."

I rolled my eyes and scrolled through my cell's documents."The ship leaves the dock in three hours. If you want your load on it, you need to tell me now."

"Ooh 3 ! The next boy coming on is my favorite. Been coming here ten years, did I tell you? Well, in ten years, I've never seen such a fox." The man licked his lips, thankfully catching the bit of chip that had been lodged in his moustache." He doesn't strip down all the way unfortunately, but it only makes his private dances all the more valuable. I asked ahead, he's the most expensive. Goes round two, the others are only one."

I sighed and slumped in my chair, knowing I wasn't going to get anywhere while this guy was hardup for some pre-pubescent dick. "Fine. Watch the damn kid, get your dance and lets get going. I have other deadlines to attend to, you know."

The man was ignoring me, AGAIN, and staring up at the stage as the lights dimmed.

A sudden voice barked out from the sound system, making me upturn my cosmopolitan. Discretely wiping my lap, I tried to appear interested in what he/she/IT/whatever, was saying.

"...And who you've all been waiting for: The delectable, the delightful, the creme in your pants, (eye roll) Viktor the Vex."

Stifling my snort behind a nose scratch, I offered an unenthusiastic applause that was overwhelmed by the entire club's deafening cheer. After the last whistles died away, a rather provocative song floated from the speakers and the lights mellowed to a variant of blues. A leg appeared from behind the curtain, and a slender body followed.

"_i would die for you_  
_i would die for you_  
_i've been dying just to feel you by my side_  
_to know that you're mine..._"

Almost choking on my mint, I was startled to find that this boy was as attractive as the crowd made him out to be. But attractive wasn't even the word. He was...heavenly.  
His black hair was left long and even though it was styled to appear matted and stringy, as if he hadn't touched it since that one night of crazy orgy sex, it still looked as if it would be beautifully silky. Perhaps it was the lighting, but his skin appeared deathly pale in the spots where it wasn't covered by skin-tight leather.

But leather had never looked so good.

It wasn't the tacky leather most of the waiters here were wearing. It seemed a more thicker leather, a sturdy, rich leather. Almost like dragon leather. There were zippers at each of his sleeves, thighs, and sides. And there was a well-placed slash straight across his front that showed the indication of a flat stomach.

My pants tightened and for the life of me, I couldn't breathe.

"_i will cry for you_  
_i will cry for you_  
_i will wash away your pain with all my tears_  
_and drown your fear_..."

The boy slinked across the stage, as if he had all the time in the world, and gracefully wrapped his fingers round the metal pole before rolling his body into it. I think I just swallowed my mint.

"_i will pray for you_  
_i will pray for you_  
_i will sell my soul for something pure and true_  
_someone like you..._"

His long fingers lazily unzipped his left sleeve, letting it drop from his arm to reveal hard biceps beneath pale, unblemished skin. The right sleeve followed. And as he began to unzip his left side, he started to circle the pole like a leopard would its prey.

_"see your face every place that i walk in_  
_hear your voice every time i am talking_  
_you will believe in me_  
_and i will never be ignored..."_

He pushed off from the pole and sauntered along the stage's edge, his fingers inching the zipper of his pantlegs across, his tongue darting out to lick his upper lip. A hand freed itself and slithered up his sleek side and his mouth parted in what would have been a moan had the music not drowned out the sound.

"_i will burn for you_  
_feel pain for you_  
_i will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart_  
_and tear it apart_..."

The boy's pantlegs pooled round his ankles, and he stepped out of them easily, never missing a beat. Merlin, he had incredible legs. Long and smooth and perfect. And the little shorts he was left with, left little to the imagination. Soon, he was gracefully lowering himself to the stage floor until he was crawling like a panther towards the dumbstruck and salivating shmucks who managed to get front row seats.

"_i will lie for you_  
_beg and steal for you_  
_i will crawl on hands and knees until you see_  
_you're just like me_..."

A man, who seemed much too eager, reached forward and "helped" the boy to remove the rather bothersome leather vest. The lad didn't seem fazed and even rewarded the excited patron with a sexy trail of his finger down the man's nose. He managed to retract his hand before the man yanked him down and smoothely returned to his feet, where his attentions were now focused on doing unnaturally naughty things to that blasted pole.

"_violate all the love that i'm missing_  
_throw away all the pain that i'm living_  
_you will believe in me_  
_and i can never be ignored_..."

Carefully, he slowly slid down the pole, his lower lip caught in his teeth, a steamy haze to his obscured eyes and a hand exploring his well-toned body.

"_i would kill for you.._."

His back arched and his head rolled back, letting his hair drape like cascades of ebony down his back as his nails dug into his chest.

"_to be close to you.._."

His thighs gripped the pole as his whole body arched backwards, slowly dropping to the floor.

"_to be a part of you.._."

His hands ran random trails over his bare chest and thighs, a bulge in his lap growing more evident.

"_cause i believe in you_  
_i believe in you.._."

He rolled back up, pushing himself to his feet. And just as it seemed as if he was about to waltz off the stage, he looked over his shoulder. His hair parted, letting one single brilliant eye shine through fog of cigar smoke and his lips mouthed.

"_i_ _would die for you_."

Then he was gone and the entire club seemed to take a collective breath.

I was at a loss. For the first time in my life, I had nothing snarky, sarcastic or condescending to say in light of a man who was far more attractive than me. Shaking the haze of what felt like a love spell from my head, I turned to my client to see him excitedly digging in his pockets, whispering heatedly into a waiter's ear. The boy nodded and motioned them to follow him.

Not knowing what was going on, I followed him and my client, not worrying that my pants hadn't dried yet and various customers were giving me the Eye. The waiter led us into a secluded room that had a single circular table surrounded by a semi-circle sofa. Mirrors lined half of the room and what with the sedating red glow of the lamps, I felt as if I had stepped back into the Department of Mysteries and was looking at one of the experiments.

The waiter left us with a little clock and a smile before leaving. My client sat down, almost bouncing in his seat.

"What are we doing?" I finally had the sense to ask. I mean, REALLY. He was wasting my time here. Time is money.

"Getting my dance. Or should I say, YOUR dance." He said, grinning.

I blinked." WHAT!"

"Calm down, Mr. Brown. What you need is a little R&R, and I think I know the very man for the job."

I was about to retort when the door swung open and framed in eerie red light, was the boy from the stage. What was his name again? Oh yes. Viktor the Vex. Well , that was sure fitting.  
It seemed he had just been called from backstage, for he was still sporting the tight leather shorts, though there was a sheen of sweat on his body I hadn't noticed earlier.

"Both?" Viktor inquired quietly. Nice voice. Soft, but it still held a firmness behind it.

"Oh no, just him." My client annoyingly explained, to which I blushed furiously and looked the other way.

Viktor smiled and nodded, then was on my lap before I could protest. I could do nothing but sit back and let the boy writhe and rock like a demon from hell against me, waking up parts I was actually EMBARRASSED of. What a night. Blaise was going to kill me if he found out I spent precious confirming hours getting a lapdance from a beautiful male stripper.

"So, how old are you Viktor?"

I tried not to scowl at the man. Really, was this honestly the time for small talk?

"Twenty-one."

"Oh really? So is my friend here. Doesn't act it though, does he?"

The boy giggled, but not in a girlish way.

"Yeah. He's one of those stressed out, over-worked types. Thinks money is everything, and lives and dies by his palm pilot."

This time I did scowl, and even threw in a bit of a glare, though it was lost on either of them since at that moment Viktor decided to shift and straddle my hips.

"So what do you think Viktor?"

Viktor ran a finger down my cheek, his hair brushing against neck."He's gorgeous."

I flushed, and punished myself to no chocolate eclairs once I got back to the dock.

"Though I prefer blondes."

Agh! Damn it! Of all the alliases to assume for this stunt, I had to choose the one where my hair was a mousy brown and my eyes were black.

"Well, they don't call him Mr.Brown for nothing! HAHAHA!"

Yeah, yuck it up, you filthy perv. I'm sure you'll be singing a different tune once they lock up your pedolific arse in jail.

"Though I can't be sure. You should check to see if the carpet matches the drapes, know what I mean? Ha ha."

Viktor smiled then turned back to me. It was then that I first sensed something was off. It wasn't the lecherous stares I was getting from my client, not even the obscene thumping of the club's music, but something else entirely.  
Now, I know I don't have many lapdances to go by, but there was defintely something different about this one. Viktor was excellent, by any standards, but he seemed, I don't know...almost afraid.  
Managing to tear my eyes from his undulating abdomen, I looked up at his face and felt as if I was slapped across my transfigured face.

His hair had parted and his eyes were shining through. Bright, brilliant, familiar green eyes. I gasped and all but upended the boy from my lap when a waiter came bursting in through the door.

" Quick! Police raid!"

My client was out the door before I even had a chance to pocket my cell phone. The waiter was racing back out the door, and Viktor was sitting on the floor, his head hung and his hair curtaining his face.  
Hearing the distinct sounds of "Halt!" and "FREEZE!", I made a rash decision and grabbed the boy's arm, hauling him to his feet and hustling him out the back hallway.  
After shoving him through the side entrance, I covertly snuck into the coat closet, grabbed my trench coat and scurried out the door.  
Throwing the coat round the boy, I hurried us down the street, putting a safe distance between us and the pinched stripclub.

Finally we came upon a street I somewhat recognized and turned to Viktor." Sorry about that, but I know a night in a jail cell wasn't something you were looking forward to."

He shrugged," Its ok. Probably nicer than most places I've slept in."

It was the vague reminscence of a British accent that made my earlier suspicion sickeningly more valid. Well, if I based everything after on the fact that maybe I was right about him, then it wouldn't do to just leave him here like this." Come on, lets get you some clothes."

"But I left my wallet back at the club."

"No worries. Just call it a christmas present from me to you,"I replied and started walking down the street, trying to ignore the bitter cold of winter. It was only a slight discomfort for me. I couldn't imagine what it must feel like for someone in nothing but a pair of leather shorts.

"I couldn't possibly, though."

"No more of that. I like spending money. Call it one of my favorite hobbies."

The boy still looked conflicted, but I silenced him by hauling him inside what looked like the only opened clothing store in the whole city. While he was being fitted into some jeans by a eyebrow-pierced youth, I ducked into the back and Accio'd his belongings.  
It turned out to be only a battered backpack with nothing but a sandwich, a wallet with close to two hundred dollars and a change of rather tattered clothes. I frowned and took the wallet and what looked to be a hotel key from the trousers, and tossed the rest.

After coming back in, I was stunned to see not a stripper waiting for me, but a very familiar young man. I couldn't help but smile as I walked up to him, pleased to see a look of humbled pleasure on his face.

"Not bad. A right side warmer than those shorts, I bet." I said and followed the store clerk to the register.

Viktor examined himself in the mirror, appearing as if he'd never seen himself before. The fitted jeans suited him, especially that light color. Coupled with a black long -sleeved shirt benearth a white short-sleeved dress shirt, brown boots and his hair combed and pulled back into a low ponytail, you never would've guessed he just waltzed off the stage of a stripclub.  
After getting myself a rather lovely furry black hat, I paid for us and left, Viktor still mute with astonishment.

Next, I found us a 24 hour diner and settled into a comfortable booth. Personally, I'd never be caught dead in a place like this, but the little diner was always a favorite of the brunette's, and the atmosphere seemed to calm him. A waitress with way too much makeup dropped menus infront of us and arched her penciled brow.

"Drinks?"

"Plain coffee for me, and perhaps a hot chocolate for my friend here." I said.

Viktor protested after she had left."You must let me pay for my own drink. The clothes were already expensive as it is."

I waved his comment off and perused the menu."Nonsense. I'm famished and it looks like you haven't eaten a proper meal in ages. Its the very least I can do." I then looked up discretely through my eyelashes, noting the look of discomfort on his face."Besides, I'd never hear the end of it if I wasn't charitable to _you _of all people."

Viktor looked at me in alarm, then his green eyes narrowed as he probably noticed the way my hair was lightening at the tips.

"Coffee and hot chocolate. You boys ready to order yet?" The waitress said, setting down our drinks.

I smiled pleasantly and nodded, though I wanted to shove her out of my personal space and demand disinfectant."Two bowls of chicken soup and a basket of rolls I think should do it."

She nodded and sauntered off to the counter, not even bothering to hand the order to the cook given there was only two other people in the diner at the moment.

"Do I know you?" Viktor asked suddenly.

I took a casual sip of my coffee and grimaced at the bland taste. Mother spoiled me on French cappicinos. "I don't recall. Do you?"

Viktor frowned and leaned forward, studying my face critically." Your cheekbones...they're sharper than before. And your hair's lighter. Wasn't it dark brown before?"

I idly touched my hair."Was it? I can't keep track anymore. I change it so often."

Viktor was obviously aware of my aloofness, since his frown turned into a glare. I stupidly chose that moment to chuckle, but it couldn't be helped. If he only knew how much I had missed that glare. Sigh. "Are you coy on purpose or do you honestly don't want to answer my question?"

"Yes and no. Its not that I don't _want_ to answer your question, its just that it was a very open-ended question. 'Do I know you?' After only a few minutes time, would you really expect to know me?"

"You sure are damn coy, aren't you? Almost as slick as a snake-"

I smirked into my cup as his eyes grew as wide as saucers. I'm sure the fact that my hair was now back to its original white-blond and my eyes were probably a beautiful stormy grey didn't help much. The waitress didn't notice, of course. She'd simply set our soups and rolls down, then went back to lounging in a chair behind the register where she was watching late-night infomercials.

I delicately blew on a spoonful of broth and took a cautionary sip. Hmm, not too horrbile, but it could do with some oregano.

"_Malfoy_?"

Another smirk graced my lips and I buttered a roll."Haven't gone by that name in awhile. Had to change it, of course."

Viktor blinked and then spent the next twenty minutes in complete silence, just sipping his soup and shooting me calculating looks. I had managed to finish half the soup and two rolls when he finally decided to speak.

"So you know who I am, I take it."

I set down my empty coffee mug and laced my fingers together ontop of the table."Irrelevant question again...Did anyone _r__e__ally_ know who you were?"

He looked taken aback by this and was silent for another few minutes. "...You know my _name_."

I nodded." Yes. Unless, like me, you've changed it. In which case, I knew what your name _used_ to be."

"I changed it to Viktor when I came here, but legally, its still the same."

I looked him over, imagining in my mind's eye the hair a great deal shorter, the eyes half hidden behind thick frames, a scar smack dab in the middle of the forehead, and a bit more fat to the oval face. I smiled." Harry Potter...So this is where you've been hiding the past four years."

The boy shifted uncomfortably, no doubt remembering earlier that evening."Not exactly _here_, but yes."

I tilted my head, resting my chin atop my hands."So answer me this atleast. Why New York?"

He shrugged."I could hide."

"Understandable." Then my expression solemned and it was hard not to keep the painful bite out of my voice."They've been worried sick. Think you're dead, they do."

He nodded." I know."

"You could've atleast left a goodbye note. I'm sure the Daily Prophet would've been only too happy to print it as the last testament of the Boy-Who-Lived before he went to face down Voldemort." The boy nodded once again, his soup forgotten. Growing impatient with his silence, I reached forward and jerked his chin up. "Hermione and Ron deserved atleast that."

The boy, once a proud and noble Gryffindor, lowered his eyes in shame.

"Tell me...Why did you do it? Why did you run?"

"Because." he whispered. Warm tears trickled over my fingers still gripping his chin."I couldn't wash the blood from my hands...It stained me...I wanted to die with everyone's memory of me as a tragic hero to be untainted and pure...I couldn't do that to them. I couldn't go back broken, beaten and bruised..."

My fingers softened and I felt the urge to slap him."So you did die. Atleast, thats what everyone thinks. No one could find much of anything in the ruin that was Voldemort's lair."

He nodded, then looked up at me." How...are they ok?"

I sighed and leaned back, folding my arms." Fine, I suppose."

"Please tell me what their lives are like now. Atleast a little bit."

I sneered, unable to hold back a curt."Ask them yourself." Harry winced and looked back down at his lap. Giving a heavy sigh, and cursing my annoying conscious, I said softly." Ginny and Neville just came back from their honeymoon. Dumbledore's settling into the Minister's job pretty well. Ron's planning the next Quidditch Cup and is bent on getting all the Canons in it. Hermione's expecting a girl in late January."

"Ron's?"

"Naturally."

"Good...I'm glad."

I picked up my cup for lack of anything better to do, and cringed as my lips met with cold coffee.

"What about you?"

Peering over the lip of my cup, I rose an eyebrow."Me? Well. After you died, I took what was left of my father's money after the Ministry got through with it and used it all to purchase a shop much like Borgin and Burkes. Been working for myself since then. Not as lucrative as I'd hoped, but I get by."

"Is that why you're here? And in disguise?"

"Natrually." I replied."Couldn't very well have wizards recognize me. Shady business aside, I'm supposed to be in mourning for my father."

"Oh. He died?"

"No, unfortunately. Dementor got ahold of him..." Harry nodded, taking the implication.

"So, it sounds as if you're all better off."

I sneered and set my cup down firmly."If you think that for one moment, none of us were killing ourselves with guilt over what we could've done to save you, then you're stupider than I thought, Harry."

He had the grace to look ashamed, and I felt even more guilty.

"Fine. I know you've been through alot, and hell if I wouldn't have done the same as you, but you must realize that we would've been much happier knowing you were ok somewhere else than dead all together..._I_ would've been happier."

"But...I'm not happy..."

"Then what are you doing here?" I paused, discerning his saddened expressions."Why are you a stripper, Harry? Why haven't you eaten properly in months? Why did I find nothing but a sandwich and some tatty old school clothes in that crappy backback of yours? Was living back home, with your friends, with _me_, so horrible you prefered to endure all _this_?"

He shook his head, his shoulders starting to shake.

Taking his wallet from my pocket, I threw it across the table at him, along with the hotel key. "Thats all you have, isn't it? Thats just from what you made tonight."

He nodded, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

A pained sigh escaped my lips and I raked a hand through my hair. Blegh. Damn boy was bringing out my bad habits again. "You're coming back with me. You understand this, right?"

He nodded again.

Reaching across the table, I tilted his chin up once more and offered him a small smile."I never did care that you were a savior anyways. I loved you for your faults, you know that. Your wounds are what made you beautiful."

Harry stared at me then I was paying the check and Apparating us to his hotel room. And I lost myself in Harry Potter once again; his broken soul, green eyes, writhing hips and bruises that littered his body just beneath the layer of determined pride.

But it was ok. Neither of us made very good heroes.

We were both too battered. Probably why we naturally gravitated towards eachother all those years ago. I had fallen so deeply inlove with this man and I'd seen myself in him. All the trials and pain and agony I'd endured, Harry understood completely. So when he left, I died with him.

But now it was ok. He was back and _I_ was going to take care of _him_ for a change. And our wounds could finally start to heal. But until then we'd still be bruised. Bruised beautiful blue and grey.


End file.
